


goldenrod

by valety



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, POV Second Person, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 09:19:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5158463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valety/pseuds/valety
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asriel and Chara spend an afternoon colouring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	goldenrod

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something about asriel and chara coming up with asriel's deviantart oc but this happened instead

Because it's Chara's first time, you decide to pull out all the stops. That means bringing out the _good_ crayons, the kind you've been saving for at least a year ever since you got them for your birthday. You open the pack and breathe deeply of the rich smell of fresh crayon, sighing happily.

"They're just crayons," Chara says say.

"They're not _just_ crayons," you reply. "Look at how many there are!"

"So?"

 _"So,_ it's really hard to _find_ good crayons in the Underground," you explain. As you speak, you're digging through your desk in search of the paper you know you've got stashed away somewhere. Chara sits on the edge of their bed, watching you and swinging their feet. "Sometimes people toss 'em in the dump, but they're usually all worn down and broken. Even if they're not, the water ruins them. So it's really rare to have an actual pack with this many good ones in it! That makes these _special!_ "

"Oh. I guess that's kind of exciting," Chara concedes. They slide off the bed and plop down on the rug, tucking their knees daintily beneath them and folding their hands on their lap. They're posturing for some reason and it makes you want to giggle.

The expression they wear as you go to join them is one of apprehension, but you're not worried about that. Colouring is _fun_ and you have _no idea_ how they've never done it before.

You tell them this and they stick their tongue out at you. "It's not that I've never done it before," they claim, crossing their arms. "I've just never done it for, y'know. _Fun._ It was always for assignments in school. Colouring in maps and stuff."

"That doesn't count," you say dismissively, setting down your stack of paper and box of special crayons between the two of you. You can't think of a single thing more boring than colouring in a map and clearly Chara desperately needs your guidance if that's all they've ever done.

Chara is still looking at you funny, as though you're being especially weird today, but you ignore them; it's not often you get a chance to show Chara something. Even when they'd first arrived, they were so eager to explore the Underground on their own that there didn't end up being a whole lot you could teach them. Somehow they'd wound up discovering everything themselves.

"Okay," you tell them, pushing the box towards them. "Pick a colour."

Their brow furrows slightly at this, but they obediently pick up the box and draw out a crayon. "Goldenrod," they read, eyeing the wrapper.

"Good work!" you say, taking the box from them and choosing one yourself. You're tempted by the metallic gleam of the silver one, but settle for an ordinary green instead. The silver should be saved, you decide; after all, that one's _extra_ special. "Now we can draw."

"What should I draw?"

"Anything you like," you reply. You yourself have already begun to trace the outline of a bush. You're thinking of drawing the castle, starting with your father's garden; that's always been your favourite part of it. You can put your family in front, you think. You and Chara and your mom and dad.

"I don't want to do it wrong,"

There's something odd about the way they say that, and you look up from your paper. Chara's holding the crayon flat in the palm of their hand, staring at it with a blank expression.

"There's no wrong way to do it," you say. You try to make your voice sound reassuring, the way your mother does when she's giving you your magic lessons and you've messed up but she's trying to convince you that it's fine. Not that Chara has messed anything up. "Anything you like is okay."

"You said these were special," they say awkwardly. They raise their eyes slightly, meeting your gaze. Their face is still carefully blank, but you realize that you've made them nervous and you feel a flicker of guilt. You hadn't meant to worry them. You'd just wanted Chara to know how important they were if you were letting them use your special crayons.

You scoot forward. "Don't worry about it," you say as you shuffle to their side. "They're special, but _you're_ special too. I _want_ you to use them."

Chara stares at the crayon in their hand. They show no sign of intending to use it.

"How about we do it together?" you suggest.

They don't answer at first, but then they nod, looking almost relieved, and you smile.

You lean forward, this time placing the tip of your crayon to Chara's paper. You draw a long, curving line, then add a leaf. You turn to them.

"See?" you say. "It's a flower."

"No it's not," Chara replies, brow furrowed . "It doesn't have any petals."

You stare at them expectantly.

They stare back, still frowning. Suddenly their eyes widen. "Oh!"

This time, _they_ lean forward. With a careful hand they trace the shape of five large petals.

"Good work!" you say again, and their cheeks grow just the tiniest bit pinker.

"It's just a flower. No a big deal," they say. They're colouring in the petals now, their movements slow and precise. "Beside, _you're_ the one who started it."

"So what?" You pick up the box, examining the rows carefully for your next choice. You choose a red one, thinking of your father's roses. "Even if there wasn't a stem, people would still be able to tell it was a flower cuz of the petals. If it was just a stem it would only look like grass. So it's _your_ flower."

Their face grows even pinker. They say nothing to this, but they pick up their drawing and stare at it for a long, long time before quietly setting it aside. Then, they reach once more for the box of crayons.

And so the afternoon passes.

* * *

Much, much later, a child wanders the silent corridors of an empty house.

They see a door, and, finding it ajar, decide to go inside.

They see a children's bedroom. Two small beds. A chest of forgotten toys. A wardrobe long unopened. Two small boxes lie on the floor, immaculately wrapped and covered in a thick layer of dust. The air is still. No one has been in here in a long, long time.

A faded drawing of a golden flower hangs on the wall over one of the two beds. The petals seem to glow, even in the dim light.

The child pauses when they see it. 

"My drawing."

They smile and turn away.


End file.
